The Funeral
by Pokeyshadow
Summary: Sequel to Moving On. I'm not a big fan of 1st person so this will be the last one written like that.


"No!"

"But Neal…"

"No!"

"Neal..."

"No!" I know I am acting like a child with my arms crossed against my chest and my head shaking vigorously. I pace the room as Peter calmly stands there, unaware how his words have shattered that little piece of my heart that still had hope. I stop pacing and stare out of his office, at the other agents who suddenly turn their heads, like I don't know they are watching us. Sometimes I really hate the FBI version of a glass house and now is one of those times. I turn and face Peter.

"Why?"

"It's customary to have a funeral…"

"Stop it." I know I am yelling and I don't care. It is hot and I need fresh air. "I have to get out of here" I say as I run out of his office and towards the elevator. I can hear Peter calling me as I get in the elevator and hit the down button. Thankfully, it is empty and I lean against the cool wall with my eyes closed. Once outside I take off running, as fast as I can until I can't run anymore and I duck into an alley and sink to my knees, out of breath.

I'm not sure how long I sit there but I am not surprised when Peter finds me.

"Neal, talk to me." He sits down next to me. What a pair we must look like. Two men, dressed in suits, sitting side by side in an alley….next to a dumpster that stinks.

"I didn't want to know" I state calmly.

"Know what?" Peter sounds exasperated.

"That you had her remains and you tested the DNA…" I stand with my back to Peter. "If there was nothing left….I had hope…that maybe…" I start walking away but Peter easily catches up. He grabs my shoulders and forces me to face him but I keep my focus downward, unable to look him in the eyes.

"Neal, I'm sorry. I had no idea." Peter releases me and he turns away, one hand raking through his hair. I watch, rather amused, at his customary habit, when he doesn't know what to do or say.

"It's not your fault" I quietly say and then take a deep breath as Peter turns towards me. "I know she died in that plane but part of me… "I pause trying to find the right words.

"Part of you had hoped that she made it out, and that she is still alive." Peter briefly wraps his arm around me. "I'm sorry Neal." He releases me and walks towards the car and I follow. We drive in silence and I'm not sure which of us feels worse. Peter takes out his phone and calls Jones to let him know we won't be back today. Neither of us speak until Peter pulls in front of June's house.

"I'll pick you up in the morning" he says but it sounds more like a question than a statement.

"OK" I say as I get of the car. I watch him drive away before entering June's house. I know I am being irrational and I know Kate is dead. I have always known that Kate was on that plane when it blew up but hearing Peter talk of remains and DNA…I sigh as I enter my apartment and throw my hat on the floor. I take my shoes off, plop on the bed and stare up at the ceiling.

I'm not sure what hurts more…Peter hammering the final nail into Kate's coffin or the look on his face when he realized I still had hope that Kate was alive. I don't blame Peter. He did nothing but try to be a friend and plan a funeral for Kate. I hate funerals. Maybe someday I'll tell him why but I'm not at that point yet and I know I must deal with the present first.

I lay there as the minutes turn to hours and the sun sets, leaving me in a pool of darkness. The wind picks up and I hear a storm approaching, the thunder and lightning a stark contrast to my inner turmoil. It is well past midnight when my tension eases and my mind is made up…I quickly change my clothes and allow myself to drift towards oblivion.

I am waiting outside the next morning when Peter pulls up to the curb.

"A small, graveside service is ok" I say before Peter can open his mouth. He's watching me, eyes wide.

"Are you sure?" he finally asks. I'm not, but I made my mind up and I'm going to see this through. "I'm sure" I answer. "There's a small area next to her father's grave. Maybe that's still free."

"It is" Peter states. "Or was" he quickly corrects. I stare at him and he smiles. "We thought it was the perfect spot and bought it while you were in jail."

"We?"

Peter shrugs. "El's the planner after all" he says before pulling into the street. "Service is Saturday" Peter states quietly and I silently count the days. I have three days before I have to watch them lower Kate into the ground. I feel my hands shaking and I grab one with the other to keep them still. I don't notice we are stopped at a light until I feel a third hand on top of mine and I look up to see Peter staring back. "You'll get through this" he says before returning his hand to the steering wheel and his attention to the road.

I hope he's right. I close my eyes, shutting out the rest of the world, my mind going back to the last time I saw her in prison. I couldn't touch her, I could only listen and watch as she said goodbye, turning my life into turmoil and setting up a series of events that led me here…next to Peter and a life I could never have imagined for myself. Kate gave me something I didn't know I was missing or needed and for that I will be eternally grateful.

"You ok?" Peter had parked the car and was gently shaking my shoulder. I opened my eyes and he's looking at me, clearly concerned. "I am." I give him the best smile I can muster. "I will be" I add as I get out of the car.

I am rummaging through the closet as I have the past hour trying to figure out what to wear to the funeral. Not that I care and I'm sure it's just an excuse to be late or not go at all. June has been knocking on my door, telling me to hurry or we'll be late and finally I snapped. That was over thirty minutes ago and I feel guilty and I need to apologize but first…I pull out a basic black suit and a light blue shirt. Quickly I find a matching tie and I'm half dressed when I hear another knock.

"June, I'm ready." I rush to the door as I'm tucking my shirt in and pulling up my zipper.

"Peter?" I'm surprised to see him here. "I thought we were meeting there."

"We were." He walks around me, and grabs the tie from the floor.

"June called you, right?" He nods. "Peter, I yelled at her and I feel so bad…she must be angry if she called you."

"She's not mad, she's worried." He thrusts the tie towards me. "She thought I had a better chance of getting you there so she went with Elizabeth. Put the tie on and let's go." I take the tie and start fumbling with it, my fingers seemingly unwilling to do a simple task. Peter grabs the tie from me. "Hold still." I roll my eyes but I stay still and let him put the tie on. He glances around until he finds what he's looking for.

"You might need these." He hands me my sunglasses and I'm about to retort how cloudy and overcast the day is but I know he's not worried about the sun. I take the glasses, shove my shoes on and follow Peter out the door.

"Peter, why are so many people here?" As we walk towards the plot I recognize only a handful of the dozens of people milling around the gravesite. He shrugs. "I guess word got out around the bureau." He takes my arm and leads me towards the front, where the chairs are. "Peter, I don't want to sit." I try to pull away but he holds tight.

"Neal it will be over soon, I promise." He gently pushes me down and then sits next to me. Elizabeth sits on my other side and takes my arm, holding me close. I don't want to be here and I want to scream at the top of my lungs that this isn't necessary and no one here knew Kate and no one cares but me. But I don't. I do the next best thing. I let my mind wander to happier times with Kate, before I got caught, when we were together and planning our next heist. I know the service starts but I don't hear the words. I can still feel and I know Peter is sitting too close to me and that Elizabeth is holding on to me as if her life depends on it and I know Moz is somewhere nearby, probably hidden behind a tree or gravestone. I know the words end and the coffin is being lowered and I am hauled to my feet as a shovel suddenly appears. I dutifully take the shovel and throw the dirt on the coffin and then I step back as others take turns filling the hole.

"It's almost over" Peter says, as he positions himself as my protector, standing next to me as everyone files by. Some approach me but thankfully most just give me a sympathetic glance as they pass by. Finally it is over and Peter motions for me to walk but I can't seem to move.

"I can't…" My voice cracks as I stare at the newly covered grave. "I can't leave Kate."

"I'll be back" Peter says and then walks away, returning a few minutes later.

"Let's go sit down" He leads me to the seats and again sits with me. "We'll stay as long as you want" he quietly says, as he drapes his arm around my shoulder.

I am sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at the TV. Both Peter and Mozzie are with me, Peter sitting next to me and Mozzie on his other side. They have been bantering back and forth all night, on every imaginable subject, each trying to one up the other. I don't mind. I want the company but I don't want to talk and they both know it.

"Neal, it's getting late." Mozzie comes over to me and tentatively lays his hand on my head. "I'll call you tomorrow. Suit" he nods at Peter before leaving.

"Neal, do you think you can sleep?" I shake my head.

"At least, get out of that suit." He brings me a pair of pajamas and then goes on the balcony, allowing me some privacy to change. When he returns I have stretched out on the sofa, again staring blankly at the TV. He covers me with a blanket and then mutes the TV as he sits in a nearby chair.

I bolt upward and it takes me a few minutes to realize I'm on my sofa. In the darkness I can barely see Peter but I can hear him snoring and I'm not surprised he's still here. I walk towards the balcony door and I watch the rain pelt down and the nearby lightning.

"Kate, I will always love you." I speak quietly so I won't wake Peter. I walk towards my bed and dig underneath until I find a small picture album. I turn on the lamp and then lay in bed, slowly flipping through the pictures. I find my favorite and I trace her smile. I can feel tears rolling down my face but I am smiling. "I will miss you." I lay back and hug the album close to my heart. Peter is snoring louder and surprisingly I am comforted by the noise and his presence. I reach over and turn the lamp off and in the darkness my memories of Kate come alive. I am happy as I drift off peacefully.


End file.
